“Fajitas, mister. I need a cook’s assistant.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded playfully, following her out of the room.
***
After dinner Leonard resumed his mission, retrying all the places he searched before and exploring new nooks and crannies. Natalia had gone to her room, so Leonard searched the main areas of the house. I doubt I’d leave it in the family area, but you never know. He stumbled upon a stack of photo albums and promised himself he would peruse them later when his head was clear. Otherwise, the expanded search proved fruitless.
He wandered up the stairs and found Alina wrapped in a towel.
“I’m taking a bath,” she announced. Then she tipped her head and gazed at him with inquiring eyes.
He shook his head in reply.
Alina’s bright expression faded. “Why don’t you retire for the night, darling .” She winked. “I’ll join you after I have a nice soak.” Inadvertently, she glanced down the hall in the direction of Garrett’s room. She looked away quickly. For a second, her eyes betrayed grief, before they resumed the false contentment Alina projected to the outside world. When she noticed Leonard still standing a couple of feet away, she frowned and silently shooed him away.
Leonard sulked down the hallway, a burning in his chest stemming from a mixture of anger and frustration. Having to speak in riddles in my own house, sounding like an idiot. What kind of world is this? A chill traveled up his spine. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he considered building a new time machine to escape the Orwellian nightmare. It’s going to take a long time to gather the supplies, he reminded himself. I need to get that pass. The base may be the best place to find the materials I need.
Leonard looked up and noticed an attic door on the ceiling, a cobweb in one corner. It seemed quite obvious that the door had not been opened recently, and it was extremely unlikely that he would wander into the hallway every morning and evening to retrieve or store his pass. Nevertheless, the attic door called to him. He retrieved a footstool from the hallway closet and quietly pushed the panel. He felt around before moving the panel to the other side. On the third try, Leonard’s hands felt something smooth resting on the insulation. Quietly, he removed a gift box, replaced the board, and retreated to the bedroom.
Inside the box, Leonard found a legal pad filled with notes and calculations in barely legible handwriting. The next several pages contained loosely sketched drawings that looked vaguely like maps. The box also held dozens of family photos. Alina’s parents. Leonard’s parents. Digging to the bottom of the box, Leonard discovered two passes — some kind of ID badges. Although the names were different, the pictures implied that one was for Alina and the other was Natalia’s. Alina’s ID had the name Heather L. Simpson, MD in bold print and Natalia’s read Madison Simpson.
Aliases?
Leonard held Alina’s ID at arm’s length, trying to make out the fine print, but he was distracted when Alina began singing in the bathtub. Startled, he dropped the pass and tipped the box. A green slip of paper fluttered to the floor while Alina splashed enthusiastically. Leonard hastily shoved everything back into the box and stashed it under the bed. Discuss it with Alina later. He wandered into the hall to confirm that he had properly refitted the attic door. Satisfied, he looked back toward the bedroom and down the staircase, pondering where on earth to search next.
As he stood contemplating, he became aware of music emanating from Natalia’s room. Surprising mellow and folkish, Leonard smiled. His daughter brought him joy. Natalia and Alina. Islands of beauty within an oppressive parallel reality. He wandered to her closed bedroom door. Natalia’s rich voice blended with an acoustic song. Leonard leaned against the wall and listened. He noticed a strange smell wafting from beneath the door. He
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded playfully, following her out of the room.
***
After dinner Leonard resumed his mission, retrying all the places he searched before and exploring new nooks and crannies. Natalia had gone to her room, so Leonard searched the main areas of the house. I doubt I’d leave it in the family area, but you never know. He stumbled upon a stack of photo albums and promised himself he would peruse them later when his head was clear. Otherwise, the expanded search proved fruitless.
He wandered up the stairs and found Alina wrapped in a towel.
“I’m taking a bath,” she announced. Then she tipped her head and gazed at him with inquiring eyes.
He shook his head in reply.
Alina’s bright expression faded. “Why don’t you retire for the night, darling .” She winked. “I’ll join you after I have a nice soak.” Inadvertently, she glanced down the hall in the direction of Garrett’s room. She looked away quickly. For a second, her eyes betrayed grief, before they resumed the false contentment Alina projected to the outside world. When she noticed Leonard still standing a couple of feet away, she frowned and silently shooed him away.
Leonard sulked down the hallway, a burning in his chest stemming from a mixture of anger and frustration. Having to speak in riddles in my own house, sounding like an idiot. What kind of world is this? A chill traveled up his spine. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he considered building a new time machine to escape the Orwellian nightmare. It’s going to take a long time to gather the supplies, he reminded himself. I need to get that pass. The base may be the best place to find the materials I need.
Leonard looked up and noticed an attic door on the ceiling, a cobweb in one corner. It seemed quite obvious that the door had not been opened recently, and it was extremely unlikely that he would wander into the hallway every morning and evening to retrieve or store his pass. Nevertheless, the attic door called to him. He retrieved a footstool from the hallway closet and quietly pushed the panel. He felt around before moving the panel to the other side. On the third try, Leonard’s hands felt something smooth resting on the insulation. Quietly, he removed a gift box, replaced the board, and retreated to the bedroom.
Inside the box, Leonard found a legal pad filled with notes and calculations in barely legible handwriting. The next several pages contained loosely sketched drawings that looked vaguely like maps. The box also held dozens of family photos. Alina’s parents. Leonard’s parents. Digging to the bottom of the box, Leonard discovered two passes — some kind of ID badges. Although the names were different, the pictures implied that one was for Alina and the other was Natalia’s. Alina’s ID had the name Heather L. Simpson, MD in bold print and Natalia’s read Madison Simpson.
Aliases?
Leonard held Alina’s ID at arm’s length, trying to make out the fine print, but he was distracted when Alina began singing in the bathtub. Startled, he dropped the pass and tipped the box. A green slip of paper fluttered to the floor while Alina splashed enthusiastically. Leonard hastily shoved everything back into the box and stashed it under the bed. Discuss it with Alina later. He wandered into the hall to confirm that he had properly refitted the attic door. Satisfied, he looked back toward the bedroom and down the staircase, pondering where on earth to search next.
As he stood contemplating, he became aware of music emanating from Natalia’s room. Surprising mellow and folkish, Leonard smiled. His daughter brought him joy. Natalia and Alina. Islands of beauty within an oppressive parallel reality. He wandered to her closed bedroom door. Natalia’s rich voice blended with an acoustic song. Leonard leaned against the wall and listened. He noticed a strange smell wafting from beneath the door. He
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